[I’m going to try and get back into writing a little about the movies/shows that shaped my taste and generally influenced how I write and what I enjoy in films. I’ve gotten away from it, but I’m going to try and be better about writing something – anything – every now and then. ]
When I was eight, I began scoring over the video rental section at Kroger while my mom did the grocery shopping. There were various movies I would rent over and over – Star Wars, The Secret of NIMH, Wizards, etc. But I generally avoided the new releases section. It seemed as if most hit movies were films I either wasn’t interested in seeing (Top Gun) or wasn’t allowed to see (Gremlins). Or they just weren't in. But on one trip to the store, some friends and I were looking over the movies and trying to decide what to watch that evening. One of us chose Little Shop of Horrors. I had seen the trailers and wasn’t particularly interested in seeing it. I didn’t care about musicals – particularly musicals about singing plants (as if that were a genre unto itself), but I relented for the sake of seeing something cool with my friends. It was a good choice since the movie won me over almost instantly.
First off, there’s a prevalent sense of melancholy about most of the characters. They hate their lot in life. They long to get away. They nurse unreciprocated crushes. They live in dilapidated basements. My favorite shot of the movie comes during the number “Skid Row.” As Rick Moranis’ character, Seymour, meanders down a dark alley – singing of getting away – he throws himself against a chain link fence. The camera swoops down behind the fence – anticipating Moranis as he walks up to camera. Suddenly, hands from the other side of the fence grab at it and riff raff starts edging their way up the fence – singing a whispery counter tune to the Moranis’ lyrics. It’s an eerie moment, all at once sad and creepy and lyrical. This movie is saturated with sadness and depression and loneliness.
And then there’s the dark humor (I wasn’t at all used to hearing songs about murder and masochism). The callbacks to other old school monsters. And the cussy words. The movie is rife with PG-13 language and innuendo. I generally was not allowed to see anything with bad language, but since this was a musical with puppets, it seemed to have slipped through the cracks. (Fun fact: “Mean Green Mother from Outer Space” was the first Best Original Song nominee at the Oscars to contain cussy words – much less imply a cussy word in the title.) The blood flows freely, but always with an upbeat musical accompaniment. And despite all the winking and sarcasm, there are serious consequences and danger in this movie. Characters get chopped to pieces. The innocent get eaten alive. The very fate of the world is at stake.
Unable to “rip” a copy of the video tape (it wasn’t until a few years later that we got a second VCR), I had fallen into the habit of recording the audio of a movie and then listening to the audio tape over and over, and so I did that here. As a result, I can still recite most of the dialogue word for word. Not just the songs. Everything. (I'm not proud, but I can do the same for Transformers: The Movie among others.) So, the sarcastic, rampantly insincere tone has completely infiltrated my psyche. The sing-songy deliveries. The exaggerated characters. And Bill Murray’s blatantly sexually charged groans and moans as he gets tortured by Steve Martin’s vicious cartoonishly evil dentist - in perhaps the movie's most inspired non-musical scene.
The movie is directed by Frank Oz, most famous for voicing Miss Piggy and Yoda. It was at this time that he began to break away from the Muppets and become a director in his own right. After this, he would go on to direct Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and What About Bob? And while I enjoy both those films (nothing he’s done since has impressed me), this is the movie where he was truly in his element. With sets that don’t bother to replicate anything other than a stage. With giant man-eating puppets that interact with the actors. He rarely gets fancy with the camera. For the subject matter, I would even say he uses it conservatively. But he creates a palpable atmosphere of rot and sadness and a general guttural existence with pseudo-death marches in place of gleeful dance numbers. He's not a great director, but he certainly does justice to Howard Ashman's offbeat, macabre script.
In fact, for a musical loaded with upbeat tunes and exaggerated characters, there is almost no choreography – save for a few twirls done by the three chorus girls who remain unseen (at least in chorus form) by the other characters. Instead, characters generally remain still or stroll around listlessly while belting out their lyrics. The exception being the plant. According to Wikipedia, the plant was a one-ton puppet that was shot in slow motion and played back at a normal frame rate. The result is still impressive today. The plant moves with a convincing fluidity and never feels super-imposed into a scene. Little Shop of Horrors is exhibit A in the case against CGI. I much prefer the physical artificiality of a one-ton puppet than the empty artificiality of a CGI’d cartoon. Voiced by Levi Stubbs, the plant is both menacing and seductive with a jazzy growling voice. It promises Seymour everything his heart desires in exchange for crossing over to the dark side and helping him out . . . that is until the plant no longer needs him.
I was lucky enough to catch a stage production of the musical while I was at the height of my Little Shop of Horrors mania. I was disappointed that “Mean Green Mother” was not in the show, but I was thrilled to see the original ending. A dark, pessimistic ending in which the main characters are killed and the world succumbs to the plant. This sequence was even shot and included on the original pressing of the DVD. (I own this DVD, which was recalled by David Griffin because he’s a whiny little bitch). But test audiences determined the ending was too dark and depressing, so an absurdly upbeat ending was shot and tacked on in its place. I then sought out the original Roger Corman production, which is like stepping into a bizarro alternate universe with a haunting, dark ending that apes even the musical's original one.
As a children’s movie, it is delightfully terrifying and subversive. As an adult film, well . . . it’s kind of goofy. I’m not a big fan of musicals. In fact, I have a tendency to like the lesser loved musicals much more than the darlings. But here’s one I can get behind with all its misanthropy and anger and rejection of anything genuine. I wish the original version were available in a clean form – with its unapproved cynicism and delightful pessimism. If this movie had followed through and ended with a poor schlub getting used, discarded, and eaten without a shred of redemption or success, it might have been the greatest musical ever! As it is, it is a fun journey through a dark mindset that comes out sparkling clean on the other side. It was also the perfect movie for this ten-year-old boy. I believe this movie is where I recognized the potential in movies that don’t quite go the distance. Sometimes, the let-down is unforgivable, but in cases like this, the let-down is part of what draws me to it.
When I was eight, I began scoring over the video rental section at Kroger while my mom did the grocery shopping. There were various movies I would rent over and over – Star Wars, The Secret of NIMH, Wizards, etc. But I generally avoided the new releases section. It seemed as if most hit movies were films I either wasn’t interested in seeing (Top Gun) or wasn’t allowed to see (Gremlins). Or they just weren't in. But on one trip to the store, some friends and I were looking over the movies and trying to decide what to watch that evening. One of us chose Little Shop of Horrors. I had seen the trailers and wasn’t particularly interested in seeing it. I didn’t care about musicals – particularly musicals about singing plants (as if that were a genre unto itself), but I relented for the sake of seeing something cool with my friends. It was a good choice since the movie won me over almost instantly.
First off, there’s a prevalent sense of melancholy about most of the characters. They hate their lot in life. They long to get away. They nurse unreciprocated crushes. They live in dilapidated basements. My favorite shot of the movie comes during the number “Skid Row.” As Rick Moranis’ character, Seymour, meanders down a dark alley – singing of getting away – he throws himself against a chain link fence. The camera swoops down behind the fence – anticipating Moranis as he walks up to camera. Suddenly, hands from the other side of the fence grab at it and riff raff starts edging their way up the fence – singing a whispery counter tune to the Moranis’ lyrics. It’s an eerie moment, all at once sad and creepy and lyrical. This movie is saturated with sadness and depression and loneliness.
And then there’s the dark humor (I wasn’t at all used to hearing songs about murder and masochism). The callbacks to other old school monsters. And the cussy words. The movie is rife with PG-13 language and innuendo. I generally was not allowed to see anything with bad language, but since this was a musical with puppets, it seemed to have slipped through the cracks. (Fun fact: “Mean Green Mother from Outer Space” was the first Best Original Song nominee at the Oscars to contain cussy words – much less imply a cussy word in the title.) The blood flows freely, but always with an upbeat musical accompaniment. And despite all the winking and sarcasm, there are serious consequences and danger in this movie. Characters get chopped to pieces. The innocent get eaten alive. The very fate of the world is at stake.
Unable to “rip” a copy of the video tape (it wasn’t until a few years later that we got a second VCR), I had fallen into the habit of recording the audio of a movie and then listening to the audio tape over and over, and so I did that here. As a result, I can still recite most of the dialogue word for word. Not just the songs. Everything. (I'm not proud, but I can do the same for Transformers: The Movie among others.) So, the sarcastic, rampantly insincere tone has completely infiltrated my psyche. The sing-songy deliveries. The exaggerated characters. And Bill Murray’s blatantly sexually charged groans and moans as he gets tortured by Steve Martin’s vicious cartoonishly evil dentist - in perhaps the movie's most inspired non-musical scene.
The movie is directed by Frank Oz, most famous for voicing Miss Piggy and Yoda. It was at this time that he began to break away from the Muppets and become a director in his own right. After this, he would go on to direct Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and What About Bob? And while I enjoy both those films (nothing he’s done since has impressed me), this is the movie where he was truly in his element. With sets that don’t bother to replicate anything other than a stage. With giant man-eating puppets that interact with the actors. He rarely gets fancy with the camera. For the subject matter, I would even say he uses it conservatively. But he creates a palpable atmosphere of rot and sadness and a general guttural existence with pseudo-death marches in place of gleeful dance numbers. He's not a great director, but he certainly does justice to Howard Ashman's offbeat, macabre script.
In fact, for a musical loaded with upbeat tunes and exaggerated characters, there is almost no choreography – save for a few twirls done by the three chorus girls who remain unseen (at least in chorus form) by the other characters. Instead, characters generally remain still or stroll around listlessly while belting out their lyrics. The exception being the plant. According to Wikipedia, the plant was a one-ton puppet that was shot in slow motion and played back at a normal frame rate. The result is still impressive today. The plant moves with a convincing fluidity and never feels super-imposed into a scene. Little Shop of Horrors is exhibit A in the case against CGI. I much prefer the physical artificiality of a one-ton puppet than the empty artificiality of a CGI’d cartoon. Voiced by Levi Stubbs, the plant is both menacing and seductive with a jazzy growling voice. It promises Seymour everything his heart desires in exchange for crossing over to the dark side and helping him out . . . that is until the plant no longer needs him.
I was lucky enough to catch a stage production of the musical while I was at the height of my Little Shop of Horrors mania. I was disappointed that “Mean Green Mother” was not in the show, but I was thrilled to see the original ending. A dark, pessimistic ending in which the main characters are killed and the world succumbs to the plant. This sequence was even shot and included on the original pressing of the DVD. (I own this DVD, which was recalled by David Griffin because he’s a whiny little bitch). But test audiences determined the ending was too dark and depressing, so an absurdly upbeat ending was shot and tacked on in its place. I then sought out the original Roger Corman production, which is like stepping into a bizarro alternate universe with a haunting, dark ending that apes even the musical's original one.
As a children’s movie, it is delightfully terrifying and subversive. As an adult film, well . . . it’s kind of goofy. I’m not a big fan of musicals. In fact, I have a tendency to like the lesser loved musicals much more than the darlings. But here’s one I can get behind with all its misanthropy and anger and rejection of anything genuine. I wish the original version were available in a clean form – with its unapproved cynicism and delightful pessimism. If this movie had followed through and ended with a poor schlub getting used, discarded, and eaten without a shred of redemption or success, it might have been the greatest musical ever! As it is, it is a fun journey through a dark mindset that comes out sparkling clean on the other side. It was also the perfect movie for this ten-year-old boy. I believe this movie is where I recognized the potential in movies that don’t quite go the distance. Sometimes, the let-down is unforgivable, but in cases like this, the let-down is part of what draws me to it.
No comments:
Post a Comment